Pairing: Roy/Ed, one-sided Ling/Ed
A/N: Not beta'd. XD If you see any mistakes, feel completely free to point them out.
Warnings: Manga spoilers
Summary: If one had to choose between a Fuhrer and an Emperor, who would win?
Sick Leave III
With a glass of tea warming in his hand, Fuhrer Roy Mustang leaned back on the cheap sofa. The condensation dampened his palm and fingers but gripping it helped distract him a bit from the creaking under him. The sofa was probably older than him—not that he was old—and it trembled whenever he shifted his weight.
Of course, it still seemed sturdier than Edward Elric.
Face tight, Edward hobbled across the small room to the table. On Winry's orders, Edward wasn't allowed to wear anything beside boxers, so Roy could see where flushed flesh met glinting automail. Edward called Winry a pervert for that rule; Winry hit him with a wrench. Alphonse assured Roy that the violence was a good sign.
Roy was tempted to pull out Edward's chair, so he sipped his tea and stared at the ceiling. Tracing the yellowed cracks, he listened to Edward mutter obscenities. Roy had had too many directed at him to ask for more.
Besides, Edward hit Roy for pulling out his chair even before the automail surgery.
He waited until Edward's soft panting slowed before looking forward again. Edward sat with his slender legs sprawled under the table, his mismatched hands clasped on top of it. His long hair was braided—Roy guessed that Alphonse had done it but he figured it wasn't worth his life to ask—and it dangled over the back of the chair. The blond glared at him, and Roy dutifully stood.
The blond had had his automail back for three weeks now. While Roy worked during the day, Winry kept Edward busy with his physical therapy. As Alphonse had explained to Roy, Edward's body had to adjust to both having limbs and carrying the automail's heavy weight, and his nerves had to recover from the shock. The young man had lost a lot of fat and muscle tone, and Winry had to carefully monitor Edward's diet and physical activity. When neither Winry nor Alphonse was there, the responsibility fell to Roy.
Sipping his tea again, Roy sat beside Edward. Aware of Edward's fierce glare, Roy quietly hid behind the transparent glass.
"You're smirking," Edward enunciated. "Stop."
And if the first thing Roy had done on his shift was to get Edward a tall glass of milk, well, that was his own concern.
xoxoxox
"Boss's therapy going well then?" Colonel Havoc greeted Roy as the dark-haired man walked into the office. Roy's grin elicited several laughs and cheers. Roy's mood had become the group's gauge concerning Edward's health, and one bored security guard had even begun taking notes on it. Without Edward regularly destroying property and attempting to kill the Fuhrer, the guard's job had quickly become dull. As far as Roy knew, Edward and the guard were on a first name basis. Oddly enough, so was Alphonse with the guard.
Havoc wheeled in front of Roy, stopping him on his way to the office. "So when can he come back?" he asked, and Roy paused, one frozen in front of the doorknob.
"One more month of physical therapy and then Fullmetal can be released for some light fieldwork," Roy answered. His dark eyes glittered as he remembered that conversation. "Ms. Rockbell will be moving to Rush Valley. Alphonse will stay until Fullmetal fully adjusts, and then he will join Ms. Rockbell in Rush Valley."
Havoc chuckled, the sound a little wet due to the fresh gum in his mouth, and Roy smiled slightly at him. What he hadn't mentioned was that Edward had demanded immediate fieldwork. He had heard of some findings in chimerical alchemy in East City and wanted to be immediately sent out. Roy had simply rolled his eyes and asked him how he would be able to buy his train ticket without Alphonse there to buy it for him.
Roy learned two things: 1) Edward was now comfortable enough with his new inches to not be so sensitive about his height; 2) Edward's control of his automail arm was increasing by leaps and bounds.
Havoc snapped his gum, his compensation for the lack of annoying smoke. "I bet Boss is just waiting for the nieces and nephews to spoil."
Roy rolled his eyes, moving that last inch to grasp the doorknob. Obligingly, Havoc rolled backwards. "I listened to him for two hours last night talking about how Alphonse's kids will be so cute and smart and great and I think he forgot that Ms. Rockbell had to be part of the equation."
Havoc's laughter followed him as he walked into his office. One hand closing the door, Roy's other hand fingered an object in his pocket. There had been more to that conversation, but Havoc didn't need to know—
Roy's fingers were raised and poised to snap before he recognized the intruder. "Your highness," Roy said quickly, lowering his fingers and lightly inclining his head. "My apologies. I did not know you were scheduled to visit."
Sitting behind Roy's desk, Emperor Yao Ling smiled merrily at the Fuhrer. "Greetings, Fuhrer Mustang. Here's the letter about it." Ling pointed to Roy's "In" pile. "My attendants should be arriving within the week."
Roy's answering smile was genial, his dark eyes sharp. So the other royals were still crossing the desert; the infamous Ran Fan could be anywhere then. If he breathed wrong around Ling, Fuhrer or no, Ran would kill him. It made him miss Riza. Deliberately slipping his hands into his pockets, Roy sauntered to his desk, every inch the regal Fuhrer. "How is Her Royal Highness Mei?" he inquired, stopping to the side of the desk. "I assume she is doing well?"
Sometimes, Roy imagined he could still see Greed's fangs in Ling's smile. Empress Mei, chosen when Edward had refused him. A loveless marriage, based on ambition and ruthlessness. Roy believed Ling had chosen Mei because the Emperor's relationship with Mei was so radically different to his relationship with Edward; he never asked.
"She is doing well, thank you," Ling responded politely, leaning back in the chair. He calculatingly ran his fingers along the arms of Roy's chair. "And how is Edward doing? I assume well in return?"
In that moment, all of Roy's years of subterfuge vanished. After months of hearing that question, usually worded exactly like that, his answer was automatic: "His physical therapy is going well; he should be back at work soon."
Ling's smile froze. His hands clenched the chair. "Physical therapy?"
Roy's own smile strained his face. His cheeks began to ache. "Automail surgery. Again, he should be back to work soon." He reached for the letter. "Now may I—"
Ling stood up. "Of course. I will leave you to your work."
Roy didn't wait for the door to slam. He waited for the window to click shut before he collapsed in his chair. It took him a long moment before he reached for the letter. It took him even longer before he could concentrate on the words. He was too busy contemplating six other words:
Edward was going to kill him.
xoxoxox
When Roy arrived at the dorm that evening, Alphonse was waiting for him at the door. The young alchemist's customary smile was gone. "Brother's resting," Alphonse said shortly, playing with a long lock of blond hair. Roy nodded, meeting those accusing eyes, and walked past him.
Roy guessed that Edward was still clad in boxers, but he couldn't tell with the blanket pulled up to Edward's chin. Winry sat beside him, mouth tight and eyes firmly fastened on her clenched fists. Edward stared evenly at the wall, not looking at Roy when the man sat on the bed.
"You're scheduled to work in approximately three and a half weeks," Roy commented after a moment. Winry sharply glanced up at him at his cool tone; Edward didn't flinch. "After which, you—"
"He and Mei are expecting their first child," Edward interrupted, staring at the wall, "and the asshole still invited me to come back to Xing with him." He laughed bitterly. "His first child and it doesn't matter."
A celebrated alchemist, a legendary warrior, a brilliant scholar, and an abandoned son. Roy held himself steady as Winry glanced between the pair. She stared worriedly at Edward, but when he still didn't look back, she stood and walked towards the door. Roy could feel her glare—they were both blaming him; did they believe he could have prevented this?—and then the door clicked shut behind her.
Now alone with the blond, Roy quietly reached out and clasped Edward's left hand. Edward tightly gripped Roy's hand, hurting his fingers.
"He was talking about his harem," Edward continued. "No pregnancies yet but it's only a matter of time. He was also talking about his kid with Mei, saying that he hoped the child would come after him. No guarantee how the people will accept a dwarf prince, he said. None of them are children to Ling! They're only heirs!" Another harsh laugh. "But he promised me that I would be special. Just one word from me . . ."
There were multiple, practical answers to this. Roy could point out the trials of running an empire, its similarities to Amestris's own system, how those children would be children for only so long. He also knew that as practical as Edward could be, he would never be able to accept any of those answers. He squeezed Edward's hand back. "What else did Ling say?" he asked instead.
When Edward waved his automail hand, the motion wasn't as smooth as before, but the carelessness of it soothed Roy. "Same thing he said to me before. Lazy bastard almost used the same exact words." He quieted, and for the first time, Edward turned to face Roy. "You're not still jealous, are you?" he demanded. "Because if you are—"
Roy had discovered early on in their relationship that kissing was a good way to interrupt Edward, as long as he didn't mind teeth.
At the moment, he didn't mind.
They talked for a little while longer before Roy left Edward to rest. To Roy's relief, Ling was not mentioned again, but he imagined he could still smell the Emperor's distinctly Xingian scent in the room: musk and apples. Edward let Roy go after pulling him for one last kiss; the blond cut the inside of Roy's lip with one of his fangs. The dark glitter in Edward's eyes gave him away as Roy walked away.
Alphonse was sitting at the table as Roy walked towards the door. Edward's smile darkened his lips. Roy's fingers itched for his familiar gloves. "Why don't you sit down, Fuhrer?" Alphonse invited cordially. "I'm sure you have a couple minutes before you have to go home."
Actually I don't. I have to get up early in the morning. I'm due for a shower. I really need to brush my teeth. I have a bottle of scotch calling my name.
Roy returned Alphonse's smile. "Of course."
Sharp bronze eyes tracked Roy's movements as the brunet sat across from him. He waited until Roy made himself comfortable before humming thoughtfully and crossing his arms across his chest. His eyes never left Roy's face. "I think you would be good for Brother," Alphonse began quietly, and Roy clenched his jaw. "I've thought that for a while. And I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't attempt a fling with someone you've known for so long." Alphonse hesitated. "Before Ling became Greed, he and Brother were lovers. After Pride's . . . action . . . and Ling became himself again, Brother wasn't able to forgive and forget. You kinda . . ." He glanced cautiously behind Roy in the direction of the bedroom. "…swept him off his feet after that. Then after the war, you abandoned him." Alphonse's eyes narrowed. "Are you going to abandon him again?"
"No." The word slipped out before Roy could stop it. Like his response earlier, this, too, was automatic. Even as Alphonse relaxed in his chair, Roy swallowed. His hand snuck into his pocket before he could stop it.
Alphonse gestured towards the door, effectively freeing Roy for the moment. Roy nodded cordially at him and stood. The blond waited until Roy was stepping out the door to speak again.
"If you turn coward again . . . if you break my brother's heart again . . . I will personally convince Brother that Ling was the better choice."
The door slamming shut cut off any potential reply.
xoxoxox
The house seemed quieter than ever when Roy unlocked the door and stepped inside. It had belonged to the former Fuhrer, and if it had been too large for a couple with a child, it seemed infinitely too large for Roy himself. Roy had even dismissed the Fuhrer's guards, as they had been more for Salem—for appearances—anyway.
The guards . . . who could do no more than stare in horror when Wrath had cut through Salem to reach Roy.
As he walked, Roy studied the expansive walls, the empty spaces, the graceful architecture of the house. The blood stains had long been removed; anything burned had been replaced. What remained was a beautiful, elegant house and his pathetic self.
Hands behind his back, Roy walked through the foyer to the study. Beside his desk, there was a liquor cabinet. Pulling out a bottle of scotch, he plopped in his chair. The top flew across the room, and Roy tossed his head back.
Gulp.
In a way, he had been Edward's second choice.
Gulp.
Of course, Edward had not realized Roy could be a first choice.
Gulp.
Then again, Roy had not realized he could be a first choice.
Gulp.
Until Ling, Roy had never seen Edward in a sexual light.
Gulp.
And then he had, and he had seen fierce, intelligent, devoted, vibrant Edward in a physical light, in a touchable light, and that image had haunted his every step.
Gulp.
And then he had realized how little a Fuhrer could offer in comparison to an Emperor.
Smash!
xoxoxox
The next morning, Havoc was waiting in Roy's office. Roy noted the tar-like coffee and the near-incessant cracking of the blond's gum. Tensing, Roy nonetheless kept his face smooth as he walked around the man's wheelchair to his own chair.
"Can I help you?" he inquired, mindful of his pounding skull. It hadn't been the alcohol that had affected him: it was the lack of sleep. Too many what-ifs too late at night.
"I saw Emperor Ling this morning," Havoc commented, eyes hard. "He was collapsed on the sofa on the second floor, complaining about how dry Amestris was. Three secretaries were fighting to get him a drink. How long has he been here?"
Roy sighed and glanced doubtfully at his coffee. It looked like it could devour his spoon if he tried to stir creamer in it. "Officially, he'll arrive with his attendants at the end of the week. Unofficially, at least one day."
Havoc frowned, snapping his gum. "Does Boss know?"
Leaning back in his chair, Roy examined the pencil holes in the ceiling. "He visited Edward yesterday."
Havoc cursed under his breath and looked away. When he turned back to Roy, his eyes were sharp on his superior's face. "Did Ling renew his offer?"
"Immediately." Roy could easily imagine Ling sitting earnestly at Edward's bedside, Edward self-consciously concealing his scarred, broken body, a body of which he was not ashamed until it failed him.
"And?" Havoc prodded. For a moment, Roy wondered if that same comparison had crossed the colonel's mind: a Fuhrer vs. an Emperor. Then he saw the concerned light in Havoc's eyes.
"The same," Roy admitted. Something within him loosened as Havoc relaxed. "Ling still seems determined, though."
Havoc hummed and cracked his gum. Roy internally blanched as the blond flashed him a fierce grin. "If you let him get away, you're the biggest fool I know. Sir."
Roy stared imperially at him and reached for his coffee. A second later, Havoc sighed and reached for the wastebasket.
xoxoxox
When Roy arrived at the dorm, Alphonse let him in again, a familiar smile on his face and a glint in his eyes. It only took him a moment to see Edward sitting at the table, automail hand deliberate on a glass of water. Emperor Ling sat across from him.
Roy clenched his jaw.
"Oh, Fuhrer!" Ling greeted, looking away from Edward's face. Edward started and twisted in his chair. His left "leg" spasmed for a moment before mimicking the behavior of the other leg. "I was told you would be here." As Alphonse continued holding the doorknob, Ling gestured towards the chair closest to Roy. "Would you like to sit down?"
Before Roy could answer, Edward rolled his eyes and slumped back in the chair. "Stop acting like you own the place," he snapped. "Al, let go of the door already. Roy, sit the fuck down!" Fierce golden eyes shifted between the two men, sizing them up. A part of Roy wondered if he found them worthy.
Edward Elric, the man who feared neither Fuhrer nor Emperor, Roy thought dryly, pulling up a chair. He could feel Alphonse's eyes on them.
"I'm going to meet Winry at Mrs. Hughes's," Alphonse chirped up. Edward's disgruntled look vanished, replaced by a shocked horror. The slender blond shot up in his chair. "I'll see you later, Brother, Ling, Fuhrer."
"Al—" Edward began, eyes wide. He started reaching out with his flesh hand.
Roy didn't bother looking back as the door slammed. Taking in Edward's wide golden eyes, he wanted to leave, too. He was tempted to excuse himself, regardless. Would that be surrender? Or sensitivity? Edward did not want to be alone with them—that much was plain. It would be far too easy for him to get caught in the middle of their feuding, and all three of them knew it.
Roy met Ling's hard eyes above the Emperor's bright smile. Then he met Edward's overwhelmed gaze. Edward, brilliant Edward who remembered to restore Alphonse and not himself, who turned away Ling for his morals and accept Roy despite his lack of faith, who would scorn an emperor and still be hurt when the emperor viewed his offspring as heirs rather than children.
It was an easier decision than he thought.
"I'll leave you two to talk," he said smoothly, standing again. He ignored Ling's triumphant expression, instead meeting Edward's betrayed eyes. Holding Edward's gaze, Roy deliberately fished through his pockets. "I think we need to talk later, though."
Quietly, Roy slid his spare keys across the table.
Edward stared incredulously at the keys. Roy would swear later that Ling was holding his breath. "You," Edward pronounced finally, "are an idiot."
Ling exhaled even as Roy deflated. He hadn't realized how much he had been weighing on this. "I—"
"The fuckin' Fuhrer, the legendary womanizer," Edward continued, snatching the keys off the table and waving them in the air, "and this clichéd shit is the best you can come up with? Yeesh!" Ling looked away as Edward pocketed the keys. "Dumbass!"
Ling stared at the table. Roy tried to find some remnant of pity within him.
He couldn't.
Roy left them alone then, but it was all right. Clutching his usual keys in his pocket, he knew Edward would be with him soon enough.